


Things Daddy Says

by orphan_account



Series: High School Gays in Space [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheerleader Lance, Creampie, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Filthy, Football Player Shiro, Forgive me because this is nothing but sin, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Panties, Semi-Public Sex, Space High School?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7434012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro shows up to pick his boyfriend up after cheerleading practice. Turns out Lance has a surprise for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Daddy Says

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Daddy kink, dirty talk, crossdressing, sex in totally inappropriate places, naughty kitty Lance, some...consensual non-consent? (uh. We'll talk about it at the end) AKA Filth. Just. Filth.
> 
> Hints of Heith and Pidgllura if you squint.

Shiro scanned the gym quickly as he stepped inside and sighed quietly. The gym was ready cleaned up, bleachers pushed in and mats stacked, but the only person inside was Pidge. The younger girl was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, tapping away at her phone but raised a hand in greeting when she spotted them. Lance, who should have been waiting with her, was nowhere in sight.

They were supposed to be meeting up so they could grab pizza and start studying for midterms. Lance had still been on board last time they'd talked but it also wasn't unusual for his boyfriend to get ‘distracted’ and lose track of time. Or to forget to call or send a message letting people know he was running late or wouldn't be showing.

Pidge pushed herself to her feet and, by the time he and Keith had walked over to her, she had her gym bag over her shoulder. “Hey, Keith, mind if I catch a ride with you and Hunk?”

Keith shrugged but Shiro frowned. “I thought you were riding with me?”

She smiled up at him wryly. “I'm supposed to tell you Lance is waiting for you in the locker room. He has _something_ to show you.”

Shiro glanced towards the door that lead to the boys locker room, a spike of anticipation hitting him on the gut. Followed by a sense of dread. He was secure enough in who he was and in their relationship to admit that he was completely and utterly wrapped around Lance’s little finger. And that he was lead into...compromising situations far more than he would have liked because of it.

There was a 50/50 chance that whatever Lance wanted to show him was going to be trouble. Maybe more than 50/50. It depended on how one categorized ‘trouble’, really.

“What is it?” Shiro asked as he turned back to Pidge.

She opened her mouth then shut it, squinting at him through her glasses thoughtfully. Finally she shrugged and patted his arm sympathetically.

“Don't make too much of a mess.”

Well. Damn.

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose then, for lack of other options, waved at her and Keith before heading for the locker room. Maybe he could talk Lance out of whatever he was doing. It had been known to happen. Once or twice in the course of their eighteen month relationship.

“Are we not waiting?” He heard Keith ask.

Pidge snorted. “You do not want to wait around for this.”

Keith was silent for a beat then, with a put upon sigh, asked, “How long is it going to take for Lance to show him something?”

“.. when you and Hunk go to your house to study you actually study don't you?”

“Yeah, so?”

Shiro pushed open the door to the locker room, shaking his head ruefully. The last thing he heard before the door shut after him was Pidge telling Keith he was too pure for their world.

The locker room was warm and humid, he could feel the heavy air settle against his bare skin and cling to it, and he could hear one of the showers dripping rhythmically. The lights were dimmed above the showers and toilet stalls, but were on full force above the locker area. The room was empty at first glance but that was to be expected, aside from Lance there were only two other males on the cheer squad and they would have long since showered and left. Lance and Pidge, as captains, were always last because they had to clean and lock up after practice.

At second glance, after walking past the first row of benches and lockers, he saw Lance’s bag on the floor and his letterman jacket folded over one of the benches. No Lance though. He didn't hear him either, or much if anything besides the dripping shower.

It was actually a little creepy.

“Lance?”

“One second!” Lance’s voice, pitched unusually high, echoed off the walls. “Sit down, okay?”

Shiro looked down at the bench suspiciously then, shrugging to himself, did what Lance had asked. Sitting down wasn't likely to lead to anything too bad, hopefully, and one second could mean an hour to Lance.

“Hurry up with whatever it is. I don't want to be late meeting everyone else.”

His only response was a few long moments of silence. He was starting to consider getting up and just looking for Lance when he heard a muted rustling sound from the direction of the shower area. He cocked his head to the side, trying to identify the noise; it was sort of familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

He got his answer a second later when Lance appeared at the end of the row of lockers, grinning at him like the proverbial cat who'd gotten the cream. Or was about to get the cream. He was wearing a cheerleading uniform but not the gray and white v-neck and pants he always wore. Instead it was a long sleeved white v-neck that stopped a good inch or two above his bellybutton, showing off a taut stomach and a lot of dark tan skin, with ‘Lions’ scrawled diagonally across the front. A gray pleated skirt with a thick white band around the bottom matched this shirt and was what Shiro had to call dangerously short, not even reaching mid-thigh. He couldn't deny appreciate the view of Lance's legs, lean and toned from his years on the squad. Lance was also wearing knee high socks, gray with a white band, that clung to his calves. He had a blue ribbon clipped into his hair, white and gray pom poms in his hands, and what looked like a light dusting of glitter over all of his exposed skin. His lips looked slick and fuller than usual.

Shiro’s mouth dropped open. Lance’s cheshire cat grin grew.

“What do you think?” Lance asked, turning in a slow circle. Shiro couldn't help but notice that the skirt was even shorter in the back, no more than an inch or two of fabric hanging below Lance’s ass. “Do I look pretty, Daddy?”

Shiro bit the inside of his mouth to keep from blurting out the yes that was on the tip of his tongue. That would only encourage Lance and, beyond that, wasn't how this game worked.

  
To say that Shiro had learned new things about himself since he'd started dating Lance didn't really do their relationship justice. To say he'd fallen down a black hole of kink revolving around Lance wanting to be either naughty, teasing, and in need of discipline or soft, needy, and wanting to be taken care of would have been more accurate. Not that he was complaining. At all.

  
Today sounded, and looked, like a naughty kind of day. Shiro had learned to read the signs, the cocky grin, the heat in Lance’s eyes, the coyness in his voice, and to act without Lance having to tell him what he wanted. It meant Lance didn't really want to be told he looked pretty at all. He wanted to be scolded and told he'd done something wrong then punished for it in some way. Things like that hadn't come as easy to Shiro as the other stuff, the softer times when Lance wanted to be treated like he was a precious thing, wrapped up and taken care of, but he liked doing things for Lance so he'd worked at it.

  
And if he was being strictly 100% honest he didn't totally dislike the not soft stuff.

  
“What are you wearing under that?” Lance's eyebrows went up at the question. Then he smiled slowly, hand dropping to toy with the edge of his skirt.

“You want to see?” The hem rose up a tiny bit. “I’ll show you if you want.”

Shiro crooked a finger to beckon Lance closer. Indulging him a little wouldn't hurt, would it. And he did like the way Lance practically squirmed in ensure when he thought Shiro was about to give him what he wanted.

“Show Daddy.” And there it was, the full body wiggle Shiro liked so much.

It was enough to make referring to himself as Daddy almost easy now. At first he hadn't been able to say things like that without blushing and feeling stupid but the way Lance responded had made it worth being temporarily embarrassed. And time had smoothed it out. This was a thing between the two them, just them, and they both opened up and showed parts of themselves no one else got to see, so it was fine to enjoy it.

Lance crossed the distance between them fast, practically bouncing across the floor. He stopped to stand between Shiro’s spread legs, dropped his pom poms onto the floor and, smiling cheekily, turned to face away from him. He bent forward, skirt rising up to show more of his dark, smooth skin as he did. It didn't take much, short as the skirt was, to expose smooth looking black fabric, edged in scalloped lace, stretched over his ass. There wasn't a whole lot to them; they covered the crack of Lance’s ass and a little of the cheeks but that was about it.

Shiro sucked in a breath and added ‘likes Lance in skirts _and_ panties’ to his ever growing list of things he hadn't known about himself before. Where had Lance even gotten this stuff?

“We don't have time for your games today.” Shiro said, glancing up at the clock on the wall pointedly. Lance tossed him a sharp look over his shoulder. “Did you forget we're supposed to meet up to eat and study?”

Lance shook his head. “No, but I wanted to show you this first. Do you not like it Daddy? I can...take it off?”

He sounded apologetic and contrite but Lance’s face didn't reflect that. He was still smiling almost smugly, looking for all the world like he'd already won something.

Shiro squinted at him, considering the expression his boyfriend was wearing, then rolled his eyes. “I’d like to be on time for a change but now I have to wait for you to change and everyone else is going to be waiting on us.”

“Shiro-” Lance started as he turned around to face him, brow furrowed.

Shiro held up a hand to halt Lance's words. “The world doesn't stop because you're in the mood to get fucked and can't control yourself for a few hours.”

Lance rocked back on his heels as he went pink up to the tips of his ears and his eyes widened. He could almost feel the shift in the air, electric and full of anticipation.

“But I missed you. You didn't miss me?”

Shiro continued on as if he hadn't heard him.

“Maybe I should make you wear that the rest of the night so we don't have to waste time to have you change.” Lance’s breathing stuttered and dark link lips parted; Shiro paused, eyebrows going up. That was...an interesting reaction. “Or is that what you wanted to happen? To go out where everyone can see you in your slutty little skirt with your ass barely covered. To have people watching you, thinking about how easy it would be to just bend you over and use you?”

Lance’s eyes lowered and his fingers clenched the hem of his skirt tighter, yanking it down some as if he was embarrassed. “N-no.”

“I think you're lying. You get off on people wanting to fuck you, don't you? Watching your ass, trying to get a peek under that skirt, hoping you’re as easy as you look.” Shiro pressed disappointment onto his voice, made his face hard. “You always want all the attention don't you Lance? Daddy just isn't enough for you.”

“No!” Lance crowded against him, arms dripping around his neck and face so close Shiro could smell cherries on his breath. He didn't touch him back but God, he wanted to. “That's not it at all, I dressed up for you, not anyone else! Let me show you, Daddy.”

He looked down at Lance’s lips, pulled into an exaggerated pout and slick with cherry accented gloss, and somehow made himself shake his head no. “We have somewhere to be.”

“But Daddy,” Lance whined, nuzzling against his jaw and pressing sticky kisses along his skin. “Please. I got dressed and then got myself ready for you.”

Shiro looked over Lance shoulder and down, watching the way his skirt brushed against his skin. “Got yourself ready?”

“Yeah. Open and wet for you.” Shiro gripped the edge of the bench, saying nothing as Lance kissed the corner of his mouth and slid further into his lap. “Ready for you to be inside of me.”

Shiro was never really sure if he was lucky or cursed. Maybe both. “Out of my lap.”

Lance’s head snapped up and Shiro could see real genuine surprise on his face for the first time. “What? Shit Daddy, I-”

“Don't argue. You know what happens when you argue.” Shiro interrupted. Lance’s mouth shut with a click. He slipped off of Shiro’s lap and stood, hands smoothing his skirt down anxiously. “Turn back around and bend over.”

His boyfriend’s shoulders dropped, all the tension in his body draining away. He spun on his socked feet and bent some. Shiro finally gave in to the need to touch, pressing against the bare skin of his back to force him to keep going until he was totally bent at the waist, fingers brushing the floor.

Probably not the most comfortable position but what was the point of a lifetime of gymnastics and cheerleading if he couldn't stay bent over for a few minutes?

He pushed the skirt up then, with deliberate slowness, pulled the panties to the side. Lance shifted his weight without being asked, easing his feet apart to give Shiro better access. Lance's pucker, dusky pink and wrinkled, looked to already be smeared with lube, wet and glistening under the fluorescent lights. Shiro prodded it, found the ring of muscle not only spread for him easy but that Lance’s body practically sucked his fingers in when he pushed inside.

He was warm and soft inside, already worked open enough that Shiro had no problem pushing his fingers in to the hilt and then scissoring them apart. Lance made a soft breathy sound and rocked back against his hand, keening his name when he crooked his fingers to flick over his prostate.

“You want it this bad?” Shiro’s voice was a little too thick, too ragged but Lance either didn't notice or didn't care because he nodded vigorously. “Such a needy little slut.”

Lance trembled then pushed back onto his fingers again, clenching around them. “Daddy! Want you, please.”

Shiro pumped his fingers in Lance slowly, paying careful attention to the spongy bump he knew would make Lance cry out for him, trying to give himself a moment to get regain control. The thought of Lance, dressed up like this for him, opening himself up, fucking himself with his fingers to be ready for Shiro, the image his brain painted of the faces and sounds Lance must have made while doing it...if he wasn't careful this would be over too fast. He needed to breathe, to calm down some. He had thought, when sex first became a part of their relationship, that there would be a point where he became less desperate and needy when it came to Lance. He was starting to suspect that wasn't the case at all.

Watching Lance arch and grind down on his fingers wasn't the best way to go about it but it helped a little. Enough for him to get some moisture back in his dry mouth and to get his brain working properly again.

“I suppose if you want cock that badly I'll give it to you.” He was always impressed with his steady his voice was in moments like this.

“I brought condoms.” Lance said breathlessly. “In my bag.”

Shiro pushed down over Lance’s prostate and held them there, eyes drinking in the way Lance’s legs shook and his back arched as he tried to rut back onto his fingers. He didn't have any issues with condoms; they were both clean as of a few months ago but they used them sometimes, more as a matter of easy clean up than anything else. It was, usually, Lance who’d have to deal with the less fun clean up parts so Shiro had always been fine with letting him decide that sort of thing.

He twisted his fingers inside of Lance then spread them apart, watching the small pucker stretch under the treatment.

“No. I want you to sit in front of all of our friends with my cum inside of you while you think about how bad you were tonight.”

He didn't hold his breath while he waited for Lance's reaction but the feeling of being on edge, waiting to see if he was pushing too much, was very much there.

Lance moaned brokenly then spoke, voice pitched to a small pleading whisper. “Daddy, please. Don’t. I don't want to.”

He looked back over his shoulder, hair falling into wet wide eyes and lips swollen from being bitten over; it all went straight to Shiro’s (seemingly very approving of Lance's apparent distress) cock. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing to steel his nerves. He opened his eyes and pulled his fingers free then exhaled.

He wasn't good at hearing no and don't, even when Lance so clearly didn't mean it, and not balking. They had safewords, ready for when one of them needed to slow down or call things to a full stop, and Lance wasn't using them but-

“Are you talking back? What happens to bad kittens who argue with Daddy?” He didn't wait for an answer before he brought his lube slicked hand down against Lance’s ass. The smack was hard enough to make his palm tingle and to make Lance nearly stand up on shock.

His boyfriend caught himself midway and quickly bent back over, ass thrust up a little higher than before, an apology tumbling from his lips. His skin was already turning red where Shiro had slapped him and, fingers still resting on the spot, he could feel the heat.

“What happens?” He asked again, needing the verbal confirmation that Lance was still on board. Not that the way he was wiggling his ass didn't give it away but hearing it was better.

Lance was still using his small whispery voice when he answered and didn't bother trying to look at him. “They get punished.”

He spanked him again, cock jumping as the sound echoed on off the locked room walls, and again. Lance went up to his toes, head dropping forward so his head was against his chest, and let out a sound that clawed at Shiro’s control. He undid his pants, shoving them and his briefs down just far enough to let his erection free. He stroked it a few times, smearing the precum that had gathered at the tip down as far as he could.

He could feel Lance watching him and when he looked up it was to find him peering over his shoulder and licking his lips.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap then.” Lance hiccuped as he straightened up then started to turn on unsteady legs. Shiro clucked his tongue. “No, like you are. You haven't done anything to earn it the other way.”

He was being mean and, judging by the way Lance, shuddered it was having the desired effect. He knew Lance liked when they were facing each other best, and all the better if they were so close they could kiss and touch easily.

Lance didn't argue with him, lesson learned until the next time he wanted to be spanked, though he whined softly as he shuffled back to stand, legs on either side of Shiro’s, facing away from him. He reached behind himself to wrap a hand around Shiro’s dick, other hand keeping the panties to the side, then lowered himself.

He took him easily, stretched and slick and blazing hot around Shiro’s dick, clinging to him and pulling him in, and sank down with one fluid movement. Shiro held his hips for a moment, keeping him in place, as he tried to catch his breath.

Then he dropped his hands back to the bench, curling around the edge. “Move. Show Daddy how much you want it.”

Lance nodded shakily then leaned forward, hands grasping Shiro’s knees. He swiveled his hips, grinding down as he tightened around Shiro, who gripped the bench harder, then bounced up smoothly. He moaned loudly when he came back down, open mouthed and desperate, fingers tightening on Shiro’s knees. He leaned forward a little more then started moving again, head dropping forward and hair falling into his face. He rode him hard, bouncing up fast to come down hard, skin slapping loudly against skin every time their bodies met.

He was shaking and breathing hard, nails scraping over Shiro’s skin. It was good, not just the way Lance felt but the way he sounded, the way his back bowed and rotated his hips sometimes, body tight for a moment and then loosening, letting Shiro know without words how good it felt.

But there were words too. Lance always had words and all Shiro had to do was ask for them.

“Feel good? Is this what you wanted so badly?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.” Lance gasped out, hips rolling. “You always feel so good. So big and thick inside of me. I love Daddy’s cock.”

Shiro hummed by way of response, focus on the way his cock looked in Lance. He had a nice angle to watch Lance’s hole, stretched wide and tight around his dick, taking him in with every thrust. His back sweaty, moisture beading and dripping between his shoulder blades, and his muscles flexed with every movement.

It was what Shiro’s dreams were made of.

One of Lance’s hands lifted up, dropped between his legs.

“Don't.” Shiro thrust up, dragging a strangled shout from Lance. Shiro’s toes curled. “Don't touch yourself.”

Lance’s head whipped around so he could fix a betrayed look on Shiro. “What? Why?”

Shiro leaned back, dropping onto his elbows. “You wanted Daddy’s dick so that's all you get. Get off like this or don't get off.”

Lance’s face went bright red and his mouth dropped open. “Daddy-”

“And I didn't say you could stop.”

He looked unsure for a moment but then he was facing away and moving again. Slower now, carefully angled slides up and down on Shiro’s dick that made him writhe and shout. Lance started getting louder after a few wordless minutes, which wasn't all that unusual, and Shiro could just imagine his face. His eyes would be closed tight, lips puffy and parted, wet with spit, face still red. He loved that face and all those noises.

He knew how to get more of them and how to help Lance along. He was close, knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer, was hoping Lance was too.

“You shouldn't be so loud.” It was harder to talk now, throat tightening and heart thudding in his chest. “What if-ngh-someone forgot something in the gym and comes back?”

Lance’s response was a broken moan. He started moving faster, rhythm faltering and turning sloppy. His legs pressed against Shiro’s tighter and he could feel Lance's thighs shaking.

“Janitors are still here, right? Think they can hear you, moaning like that? Might walk in, see you fucking yourself on my dick like a needy whore, see how desperate you are for it, getting off just on having your ass fucked.”

Lance cursed and sobbed, body going vice-tight around Shiro. He kept moving some, rocking back and forth  Shiro closed his eyes, snapped his hips to thrust into Lance’s spasming passage. His orgasm hit like a truck, made the world white out and all sound drop away for one heartstopping moment, and then he was back, sitting up and wrapping his arms around a trembling Lance.

They didn’t move or speak for a time, Lance slumped back against his chest like a marionette who’d had it’s strings cut and moaning weakly as Shiro kissed his neck and face and stroked over his heated skin. Then Lance wiggled and laughed hoarsely.

“Your fucking mouth.”

Shiro coughed, feeling a blush creep up over his face. “Shut up Lance.”

“What would Keith say?”

“Don’t talk about Keith when my dick is in you.” Shiro wrinkled his nose then pressed his lips against Lance’s neck, breathing in sweat and sex. “You okay?”

Lance nodded then, hands planted on the bench for leverage, pushed himself up to his feet. Shiro sighed as his cock slipped free of Lance. He wobbled a little but stayed upright as he looked down at himself, grimacing; Shiro looked as well and saw the front of his panties was soaked through with, he assumed, Lance’s cum. His backside wasn’t much better, hole fluttering and clenching as cum started to drip out.

“Gross.”

Shiro nodded his agreement then, smirking, reached to pull the back of the panties into place and yanking the skirt down. “Go get dressed. Leave the underwear on.”

Lance’s lips twisted but Shiro just stared back, unmoved. Finally his boyfriend huffed and bent to grab his gym bag. “Pervert.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo. I want to stress that everything here is consensual. Lance says 'don't' to not using a condom but, you know, kinky sex time. There's a safeword in place and if he'd used it Shiro would have stopped right away and adhered to what Lance wanted.


End file.
